Memoirs
by WaichiMakkura
Summary: AU Po returns to the Valley after ten years and an escape from the slave trade. China knows him as the traveler who leveled an entire town in one night, and Master Shifu is intrigued by the stories. Shifu takes Po on as a student, but is in for a shock.


**(A/N: I started writing this story as an attempt to get KFP out of my system, but I'm not sure that was such a great plan. LOL! Also, I feel that the fandom could use some fresh blood....But maybe that's just me being older than most of the other fans! Also, this fic was partially-inspired by examining all the random pairings people have written about...so expect some tasteful (or at least as tasteful as I can make it) PoFu in later chapters. But as always with my fics; Plot comes first.)**

**Disclaimer: This is an AU fanfiction of Kung Fu Panda. I don't own anything, and I make no monies, only brain-candy for myself.**

A young panda cub cried out as it's little body went rolling down an embankment, crashing through bamboo leaves and wet reeds. The wide-eyed child came to a stop near the banks of a stream, trying desperately to quiet his own panting breath. His heartbeat seemed dangerously loud, thudding in his ears.

A roar sounded from behind him, to the right, and he cried out again as he fell over himself in his haste to get away from the tangle of fangs and claws lunging at him. He latched onto a thick, tall stalk of bamboo overhanging the stream and climbed as quickly as he could, looking back at the form that leapt after him. His attacker's muzzle was tinged with red, and it bared it's fangs in a low growl as it crept after him. The child was noisy, panic-sounds escaping him as he scooted closer to the other side of the stream bank, and the predator stalking him was goaded on by the cries.

The panda stretched out a paw to a boulder near the end of the bamboo, and then the beast behind him struck, slashing at the cub. The claws connected with the boy's hindquarters, and then a second swipe snapped the bamboo sagging under their weight. The cub fell headfirst into the water, and then resurfaced, crying and clinging for dear life to the floating bamboo pole.

The hunter roared angrily, as the loss of the cub's weight sent it flying backwards into the forest.

The next morning, the bamboo pole drifted into a marsh, and the cease of motion woke the cub from a restless sleep. The boy plodded wearily off the pole into a rice paddy, and sputtered, trying to keep his head above the water as he searched for land.

He found the edge of the paddy, slick with wet grass and mud, and the child wailed for help as he struggled to get out of the water.

A white-feathered head popped up from tall grass, glancing around for the source of the sound, and then a white goose stepped out and waddled over hurriedly. Another goose appeared a moment later and followed suit. The first bird took off his shirt and held it out for the cub to grab hold of, the second grabbed his friend's webbed feet and helped tug the child out of the rice paddy.

The panda cub lay curled up on it's stomach, ears flattened, shivering, and glanced back and forth between the two geese. They could see the fur on it's hind-legs matted with blood.

The first goose covered the child up in his discarded shirt, which was now ripped anyway, and coaxed him onto his feet. The bird wrapped a wing around the boy and nudged him forward, guiding him up the hill toward a warm home in the same way he might guide a gosling. The other goose walked behind them, clucking irritably to himself and shaking his head.

****

Po opened his eyes, pondering his earliest memory under the shade of a straw hat.

He glanced down the dirt road that stretched out to the left and right of him, his back nestled comfortably against the stalks of a bamboo field, paws folded in his lap. He wondered if it was the smell of the bamboo, or just the sheer amount of it in one place, that had triggered the memory.

The sound of wheels squeaking and crunching against the dust reached him and his ears twitched slightly toward the noise. As he had anticipated, a merchant caravan was traveling through this area.

He got to his feet and stepped out into the middle of the road, waving at the caravan. The driver, a black pig, leaned out to see the obstruction in his path, and then turned in his seat to yell orders at someone inside the caravan. The caravan ground to a halt about two feet from Po's belly.

The panda tipped his hat to the driver and walked around the side to speak with him.

"Does this road lead to the Valley of Peace?" he asked. The pig snorted at him.

"Of course it does! It's the only place around here big enough to do decent wares!"

"Then may I catch a ride to the Valley?" Po asked again, dipping his head politely. The pig scrutinized him for a moment, frowning at the traveler's large bulk.

"This vehicle already pulls a lot of weight, buddy. You'll slow us down, and I'm already running late." the pig said, flicking an ear absently. Po frowned, and dug around inside his tattered robes.

"Will this make up for it?" he asked hopefully, holding out a paw full of gold pieces.

"Are you kidding? With all the stock I've got in here, I make more than that in five minutes when I set up shop. Now take a hike!" the pig laughed and motioned Po away.

Po gripped the top of the caravan with one paw and shoved his weight against it, causing the whole thing to lurch dangerously to the side. He narrowed the distance between himself and the driver, who was clinging to his seat in fright.

"I just want to get there." the panda said quietly, and somehow the look of desperation in his eyes filled the pig with more fear than any hateful glare could have.

Po ended up sitting on the rear bumper of the caravan as it continued onward, and took the time to observe the inner-workings of the vehicle. He had seen people carried on personal carts, and he had seen boats carry them across waters. He had known of the caravans that supposedly ran without slaves or workers pulling them along, but he had never seen one. It must have cost the merchant a large sum.

The caravan still required beast-power to work, but it was significantly less effort for them than simply pulling the thing using rope. A group of eight or so pigs sat on raised seats, pedaling the vehicle forward. Gears and parts made from wood and bronze moved constantly inside to the rhythm of the workers inside of it. Po glanced around the side of the caravan from time to time, and when they passed a sign indicating that the Valley of Peace was nearby, he hopped off the back and pushed to help the tired swine, who cheered favorably between wheezing gasps.

They reached the massive gateway to the valley, and Po looked up at it in wonder. He hadn't been to this place in almost ten years. He barely remembered what it all looked like, and it had changed.

The caravan rolled on through to the main road, and Po parted ways with it, giving a short wave to the pigs inside. A few rabbits gasped excitedly when they saw him and whispered amongst themselves.

"Shh! Look! It's the traveling green-eyed warrior!"

Po ignored them and trudged ahead, focused single-mindedly on his final destination; home. He walked through the winding inner streets of the Valley, relying on some navigational instinct learned from years spent as a child exploring every nook and cranny of the settlement.

Eventually he came to what looked like a large courtyard. Banners all around the entrance read; "Ping's Noodles". Po's gut clenched a little as he stared at what had once been a modest hovel peddling out cheap noodles to passersby on the street. He distinctly remembered being a living advertisement, shouting out the name of the little restaurant as a small child to people walking by.

Po marched on through the entrance, not bothering to duck for the banners, or worry about the chairs he tipped over while squeezing through the confined spaces meant for much smaller customers. A few ducks and pigs squawked at him and ran about in disarray, but he barely noticed them. That is, until one particular duck latched itself onto Po's leg and pleaded with him.

"Please mister, mister warrior sir, please don't wreck the restaurant! I need a job…"

The panda paused to listen to the bird, picked him up, and then set him down gently on a table before continuing on to the counter. He sat himself down on one of the stools arranged around like a bar, and tapped at the little gong set there as a service bell.

An old, grizzled goose emerged from the kitchen, took one look at Po and immediately began to shake, so troubled was he at seeing a panda sitting at his bar.

"C-Can I help you sir…?" Mr. Ping said in a weary, trembling voice. The panda seated before him was covered in old cuts and scabs, the corners of his eyes forming crusts, and his nose was rather wet. There were holes in his robe, which looked rather thin and cheaply made. The panda also had dust and mud caked into his fur, looking as if he hadn't bathed in over a month. But the thing that made Mr. Ping truly in disbelief over the idea that this could possibly be his dear son, was the expression the panda carried.

Po's face was stern and stiff, and his eyes looked glazed as he seemed to stare out at nothing. He turned those eyes to look at Mr. Ping, and stared at the goose for awhile, making the old geezer increasingly nervous. Perhaps this was some long-lost relative of Po's who had come looking for him, the goose thought.

The corner's of the panda's mouth twitched, and he permitted himself a small, fragile smile.

"Hi, dad." Po said softly.

Ping began weeping right there on the spot, and practically launched himself over the counter to grab wing-fulls of Po's robe. Po brought a paw up, very slowly, and laid it on his foster-father's back.

But that was all.

**End Chapter One! Please review and let me know what you think! **


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